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"Ciruelo, you're a lie on two legs, a delirium, a simulacrum, a utopia."

Toño is in fact an intolerable, enigma and unforgiving character as any I've ever met in probably nearly every other literary form. At times he seems like the devil incarnate exploring the abyss of the human heart and brain, and for this very reason, Evelio Rosero has written a poetic car crash tale of sins in the history and present of both Colombia and the rest of the world. Eri is both enraptured and completely disgusted by Ciruelo's actions and words at every turn. In this relation, Rosero explores the aspects of indifference in being a spectator to these extreme acts that seem inhumane and impossible to act on.

"No religion, no political ideal or social structure truly concerns itself with the human being; they are concerned only with the interests of an organization, a society, a family, which may or may not be numerous...but never the human being, or planet Earth as a being, and they won't ever. Evil is congenital, it is some innard alongside the heart of man, if not the heart itself."

The systems we have in place today have been built on violence by men lacking any sense of moral code with unifying ideals and principles. Evil is a part of every human ever born, and Rosero explores this to the max. At times I was questioning whether Ciruelo was a human or a creature from the depths of hell. And I still don't know if these ideas are mutually exclusive. Looking at the world through the far-from rose-coloured lenses of Rosero's glasses is not for those who are timid in the face of a good old reality check of our brutal and terrorizing world.

"Love for me would be to kill you with my hands."

Is this a book that raises awareness or exploits violence toward those lacking in social or political currency, especially that towards women? I'm not sure how to answer that as this book is filled with numerous ideas that confront the current truth of our state of affairs as a species. No holds barred and fully committed, Toño the Infallible by Evelio Rosero is like if Fernando Melchor took acid and had written a Colombian take of The Master and The Margarita. The more time away from finishing it, the more it simmers inside of me.

"They captured the world, but not its creator."

"I understood nothing except that the whole world was asleep."



"Ciruelo could make even God laugh."



"My path was the abyss."